


With Nary A Moment's Thought

by Dellessa



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Abortion, M/M, Mech Preg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt:<br/>http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=14804629#t14804629</p><p>We all know the well-loved heat trope. Let's see something that takes place after the main event, so to speak.<br/>So there's mech A, who recently went into heat. But it didn't turn out as nice as some of those fics. As soon as he was thinking straight again he took whatever's the robotic equivalent of a morning after pill, and parted ways with his partner(s) with "Yeah, no hard feelings, we were kinda out of our minds there, and hey it was fun while it lasted, right?"<br/>But no matter how brave a face mech A is putting on, he's not okay. He's terminally embarrassed of his behavior while under the influence of the heat coding, and afraid he's ruined his relationship with whatever mechs he ended up with during the heat, and thinks that no-one would look at him twice unless he was in heat, and is just generally struggling to cope.<br/>But luckily, mech A has a long standing friend mech B, who knows A well enough to tell he's not okay, and sets out to make it right. He assures A that it's all normal, and A's got nothing to be embarrassed of, and that he's amazing and sexy even without the heat, and so on. Generally just praises and pampers mech A until he starts to feel better, and tops the deal with a nice, slow and sweet round of facing, without any of the heat-madness.</p><p>Additional notes: <br/>Very dubious consent. Very. Very Very. Please keep that in mind.</p>
    </blockquote>





	With Nary A Moment's Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:  
> http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=14804629#t14804629
> 
> We all know the well-loved heat trope. Let's see something that takes place after the main event, so to speak.  
> So there's mech A, who recently went into heat. But it didn't turn out as nice as some of those fics. As soon as he was thinking straight again he took whatever's the robotic equivalent of a morning after pill, and parted ways with his partner(s) with "Yeah, no hard feelings, we were kinda out of our minds there, and hey it was fun while it lasted, right?"  
> But no matter how brave a face mech A is putting on, he's not okay. He's terminally embarrassed of his behavior while under the influence of the heat coding, and afraid he's ruined his relationship with whatever mechs he ended up with during the heat, and thinks that no-one would look at him twice unless he was in heat, and is just generally struggling to cope.  
> But luckily, mech A has a long standing friend mech B, who knows A well enough to tell he's not okay, and sets out to make it right. He assures A that it's all normal, and A's got nothing to be embarrassed of, and that he's amazing and sexy even without the heat, and so on. Generally just praises and pampers mech A until he starts to feel better, and tops the deal with a nice, slow and sweet round of facing, without any of the heat-madness.
> 
> Additional notes:   
> Very dubious consent. Very. Very Very. Please keep that in mind.

Jazz was nowhere near. It was one of the few thoughts that surfaced through Prowl’s processor. Jazz was on a mission. Far away. He wouldn't get back in time. He wouldn’t---all thoughts fled his processor leaving nothing but the heat that rose up through his chassis. He had not felt like this since well before the war. 

He stumbled into the hallway, leaning heavily against the wall, and vented heavily. It burned. It felt like fire rose up from under his chest plates, curled up inside of his abdominal plating and settled hot and wet between his legs. He ran, stumbling. Heedless of where he was going. Some distant part of his processor thought that he could run until he was free of the Ark and any mechs that would pursue him...and they would pursue him soon. The cloying scent of heat surrounded him, and soon it would drift through the ventilation system. THey would chase him. They would probably catch him before he made it to his own room. He might try to lock himself up, but what good would that do. Eventually he would let them in. He could go to Ratchet, but even the medic would tell him there was no cure for it but to see it through. 

He ran, finally, stumbling as he careened past the recreation room, vents heaving. 

“Prowl, are you okay?” Sideswipe’s voice came from behind him. He stopped for one second, and stared at the red mech like a cyberdeer caught in headlights. He knew the moment when the heat scent caught Sideswipe’s olfactory sensors. “Prowl, come here.” 

The Praxian shook his helm, and scrambled away. Sideswipe chased after him, in no hurry to catch up. It was not long before a second mech was chasing after him, herding him through the Ark. 

It was getting harder and harder to keep up the speed. He panted. Lubricant slicked his thoughts, and left a trail as he ran. 

He did not even see Sunstreaker as he was tackled to the ground, pinned beneath the golden frontliner. He arched against the other mech, whining. “Please. I burn.” 

“Shhhh...we will take care of you,” Sideswipe said,as he approached. “Won’t we, Sunny?” 

“Oh, we will,” Sunstreaker growled, grinding against Prowl. “We will take very, very good care of you. Promise.” 

Prowl moaned as he was lifted up, and carried through the Ark. Prowl didn’t know where they were going. He could barely keep his mind off of anything but the heat pooling between his legs. He felt empty. horribly empty. “Please. Please.” 

“Shhh...soon.” 

“I need...Please!” He moaned, his panel snapping open as he was carried into another room. Some part of him knew it was the twin’s own room, but the vast majority of his processor did not care it only wanted to be stretched and filled, to be used and sparked up. He hated it, but that feeling was dim and far away. 

Sideswiped pulled him down onto the berth, his chest hard against Prowl’s doorwings as Sunstreaker loomed over them both. His legs were spread, and Sideswipe entered him first with little preparation. He was already slick, and more than ready for it. His valve clamped down hard on the intruder, callipers rippling as the mech below him started to move. The spike inside of him was ridged heavily and seemed to scrape against each node until the charge that had steadily been building since the chase began cascaded through his systems. He wailed optics whitening as he was knocked offline, and fell limp against Sideswipe. 

When he came back online Sunstreaker was slowly pressing in, digits pressed in alongside his brother’s spike. It felt amazing, spread him wide until his was taking in great vents to try to cool down his chassis. His core temperature only rose, spiking when Sunstreaker finally pushing inside, thrusting inside him at a counterpoint to his twin. Prowl could only cling to them, crying out loudly with each thrust. 

Prowl whimpered as the second and third overload carried him along. The twins never stopping as the charge began to build again, and finally his chestplates parted, baring his spark to Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker’s own plates parted, pressing the sparks together. The energy flared brightly and Prowl was lost to the world.

OoOoOoOo

Prowl booted out of recharge slowly. His frame warm and sated, but his processor was horrified at the reading that popped up on his HUD. He was sparked, undoubtable. It left a sick feeling in his spark. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want a sparkling. Not now. Not with these mechs. He was happy enough that the heat had passed, grateful even. There was no damage to his frame. They had stayed with him, tucking him safely between him, and when he untangled their limbs they both stirred.

“Prowl? Are you okay?” Sideswipe said slowly. 

“I...I can’t do this. Thank you for helping me, but I-I can’t. I don’t want this. I don’t want a sparkling. I--I--” Prowl felt as though he was going to glitch. He couldn't raise a sparkling! Not like this. 

“Prowl...It’s okay. We understand,” Sideswipe said. “We are at war. No one would blame you for not wanting it. Least of all us.” 

“Let’s get you cleaned up and take you to Ratchet, Okay?” Sunstreaker said, untangling himself he helped Prowl up and led the dazed Praxian to the washwrack down the hall, Sideswipe trailing behind. 

The twins cleaned him up, washing away the transfluid, lubricant, and carefully buffing out the paint transfers. He barely noticed it, or the trip to the medbay. Ratchet didn’t snap at him or chide him. It was surreal and upsetting all at once, but by the time he fell asleep on the medical berth the new spark was gone, and he felt horribly cold. Empty.

OoOoOoOo

Seeing the twins was awkward. Prowl didn’t know what to even say or do, so he avoided them as best as he could. Jazz wasn’t due back for another decacycle, and that was something else he tried not to dwell on. His behavior had been embarrassing and undignified. He squirmed uncomfortably at the thought of it. His processor kept circling back to it though, making it feel like he was going to glitch.

It was tempting to see if he could finally get Ratchet to remove his reproductive parts altogether, but he had gone down that road before, and it was not something any medic was willing to consider, not with their numbers so low. When the war did end they would need every mech they had just to bring their numbers up to a healthy level. 

Had it been Jazz’s sparkling he would not have had a second thought about keeping it...not that Jazz had ever looked at him that way. It broke his spark to think that Jazz would only ever think of him as a friend. He wanted me. So very much more. 

At the same time it wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t like mechs were breaking down his door. half the mechs on the Ark thought he was little better than a drone. No one would even consider getting near him like that...not unless his frame was running how with heat. His frame flushed with shame. It hurt. 

He drew more and more into himself, and started avoiding the other denizens of the Ark unless it was absolutely unavoidable. No one, however, seemed to notice...or even care.

OoOoOoOo

Sideswipe had never been more relieved to see Jazz in his entire existence, relieved, and also more than a little bit scared. It wasn’t hard to see that there was something not quite right with Prowl these days. He skulked about, and was even more socially awkward than usual, often times running off when he saw mechs approaching him. It was worrying.

Clearly they had broke Prowl.

Sideswipe just hoped Jazz wouldn’t kill him for it. It was no secret that the mech had the worse kind of crush on Prow aside from being Prowl’s best friend. It was also no secret that Prowl was completely unaware of that fact...and Jazz didn’t seem inclined to clue him in. 

“So...Jazz...got a klik?” Sideswipe said cautiously. 

“Yeah, I hav’a klik, what’s up mech?” Jazz stopped and watched Sideswipe with a frown on his faceplates. 

“Ah, yeah...well...while you were gone....something happened. Yeah. Something that was maybe a little bad. Prowl...kinda...sorta...might have gone into heat, and Sunny and I might have found him in the hallway and took him back to our room. He’s been acting all weird, and avoiding us. I mean it’s not like we expected him to keep the sparkling. We don’t blame him for that at all. But it’s all awkward. I think we might have broke him. Like really broke him,” he winced as the words came out worse than one of Bluestreak’s rambles. 

Jazz stared, and stared hard. “You did what?” 

Sideswipe opened his mouth, and shut it with a snap as he saw the look on Jazz’s faceplates. It bordered on murderous. “Maybe you should go see him. You like him, right?

“Are you fragging kidding me, mech? I don’t like him, I love him. I’ve waited, and waited and you just....” He shook his helm. Prowl probably wouldn’t even want him now either. All of his carefully made plans, ruined. 

“I don’t think that is true,” Sideswipe said, “He clearly needs someone and he doesn’t want Sunny and I. He made that clear. Maybe you should try to talk to him. Please. He may be a stick in the aft sometimes, but he is a good mech and he doesn’t deserve to suffer like this.

OoOoOoOo

::Hey, Prowler? You in there? Can I come in?:: Jazz commed Prowl, pinging for entrance.

The door slid open, and Jazz stepped in cautiously. “Prowl?” 

“You’re back early. Are you here to debrief?” Prowl asked, looking down at the floor. 

“No, no. I already debriefed with Optimus and Red Alert. I...actually came here to see you. Talked to Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and ah...Ratchet too. They are all concerned about you. I was hoping you might want to talk about it? You aren’t acting like your normal self from what they told me. Don’t think I would be a good friend if I didn’t check on you.” 

Jazz didn’t miss the way Prowl’s doorwings quivered, “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.” 

“Yeah, well, I do. You’re my best friend. And I had hoped...I had hoped I would be there for you when the time came around. There are things I’ve been meaning to tell you and I’ve just never found the right time or the write words,” Jazz said as he moved closer. “I’ve always thought of you as more than a friend. I always hoped that there could be more between us than that.” 

Prowl froze, “I don’t understand.” 

Jazz made a little huffing noise, “I love you. I’ve wanted you. I just...I just didn’t think you felt the same way.” 

Prowl made a little gasping noise. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought you would never want me because they had me, and...I....I couldn't keep it. I can’t...” 

“Shhhhh...you don’t explain yourself to me. I understand,” he sidled closer until he was close enough to pull Prowl into his arms and kiss him gently. “It wasn’t the right time, but eventually it will be, and if you will have me...” 

Prowl held onto him tightly. The kiss left him strutless and clinging. “Yes! Please. I’ve wanted to hear that for vorns.” 

Jazz gave him a lopsided little smile, “What a coincidence, I’ve wanted to say that for vorns. You are one of the most wonderful, intelligent mechs I know. Beautiful.” 

Prowl hid his faceplates against Jazz shoulder, “Jazz...now you are making up things.” 

“No, I’m not, my mech. You are beautiful. You make my spark speed up every time I look at you. You make me think the most sinful thoughts...it’s a wonder that the Unmaker hasn’t come after me.” 

Prowl squirmed in his grasp, “Really?” 

“Do you want me to show you?” 

Prowl looked up at him, shocked, “Now?” 

“No better time than the present,” Jazz smiled, and tugged the mech towards the berthroom. “Unless you don’t want to...” 

“I do. I---I’m just surprised. I didn’t realize you felt the same. I never imagined,” He leaned in pressing his lips against Jazz’s. “Please. I want you.” 

“I want you too, Prowler. I have for so long,” he pressed the other black and white mech against the berth, and climbed over, him, straddling his hips. He ran his hands over plating, touching every mecha-inch he could reach. His fingers wiggled between seams, touching sensitive wires and seams, and trailed kisses across Prowl’s chassis. He nuzzled the Praxian’s neck cording, nipping the soft metal. “Wanted to do this for so long. Wanted you for so long. Wish I had been here when you went into heat. I would have made it so good for you.” 

Jazz hands trailed down, tracing the edges of Prowl’s interface panel, and smiled when it snapped open. Prowl arched up into his touch, spreading his legs, he tilted his hips up in offering.

It was different with Jazz. He didn’t have the Twin’s frenetic pace. He went slow, stretching the mesh lining of Prowl’s valve carefully before entering. He was in no hurry, and set a slow, steady pace that had Prowl begging for more before he finally came undone, strutless in Jazz’s arms.


End file.
